Witness
by brokenmoonlight
Summary: Vince sees something he really shouldn't have and fears he may have put not only his life in danger, but Howard's too.
1. Running Scared

**A/N: More Vince angst, I'm afraid. I just can't seem to be able to leave the poor guy alone! This first chapter is a bit short, but I felt it was a good place to stop it. I'm going to get a bit of 'Hero Howard' into this at some point as well, because I know you all love him! **

**Disclaimer: The Mighty Boosh is the genius of Julian Barratt and Noel Fielding.**

**xxxx**

Vince had never run so fast in his life. His feet hit the ground hard as he simultaneously tried not to throw up and faint at the same time. He fell sideways into a wall as he retched, but he bounced off of it and kept going, faster and faster until the gentle breeze sounded like a storm ringing through his ears, heart thumping wildly, breaths gasped harshly. He nearly sent a woman flying, the bottle of wine she was carrying getting knocked out of her hands and smashing on the ground, red liquid spraying everywhere, but he didn't even stop to apologise, couldn't stop even if he wanted to, _just in case_. Vince rounded a corner, nearly tripping on a loose paving stone and careening into a parked car. He forced himself onward, faster, faster, push, push, push, _push_, until his legs threatened to give way. Then he saw it, and if he'd had the energy he would have cried with relief. Instead, he flew at the door, fumbling for his keys and the dropping them on the floor. He bent down, hands trembling as he tried to grip them, nearly screaming in frustration as they slipped again, the skin on his fingers getting grazed and torn against the concrete as he took hold of them firmly, ignoring the pain searing through his hand as he thrust the key at the lock, head turning quickly to look down the street to make sure he was alone. It took several attempts to get the key in the door, but when he did Vince threw himself inside and slammed the door behind him, frantically turning the locks and stumbling up the stairs, finally collapsing into a heap at the top of them, shoulders heaving as he tried to draw air into his lungs, his chest painfully protesting at the sharp movements, the side of his face pressed into the carpet. A light snapped on.

"Vince, what the hell -"

Howard had appeared in the living room, tying his dressing gown and rubbing at his eyes, but he soon forgot what he was saying when he spotted Vince on the floor, shaking violently and hyperventilating. Howard swore and dropped to his knees next to him, wasting no time in hauling him upright. The smaller man looked terrified – his blue eyes were wide with fear, his face bloodless and coated in a sheen of perspiration. His chin fell into his chest and Howard had to grab it and hold his head up.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, trying his best not to panic as he checked Vince over, wincing at the grazes on his fingers and knuckles, and it was then that Vince registered that he was there and burst into tears, head buried against Howard's shoulder as his sobs half came out as screams. Howard held him tight and tried to calm him, desperate to get him breathing properly before he passed out. Something had obviously frightened the life out of him, but that could wait for a bit. "Vince – Vince, calm down, you're hyperventilating; look at me." Howard took hold of Vince's face and lifted his head, looking at him with nothing less than frantic worry as tears spilled down Vince's cheeks. "Come on, now - slow it down."

Vince held Howard's gaze, the comforting familiarity of his friend's eyes helping to calm him.

"That's it," Howard soothed, stroking Vince's hair and running a thumb over his cheek. He helped Vince to stand so he could take him over to the sofa, and his friend fell against him, legs too weak to hold him up. Howard was scared to think about what had happened, but he knew that Vince needed him to be strong and take charge, so he put an arm around Vince's waist and half carried him across the room, settling the crying man down and rushing to the kitchen to get him a glass of water, grabbing the kitchen roll instead of wasting time walking to the bathroom. He pulled part of the roll off and handed it to Vince so he could wipe his nose and face and then gave him the water as he sat down next to him. Vince gulped at it, but ended up choking and spilling it down his front. Howard took it from him and placed the glass on the floor.

"All right, it's all right," he said, as Vince flung himself at him again, clutching the front of Howard's robe, his small body convulsing as he wailed.

"I – I didn't -" Vince coughed as he tried to speak, his words getting tied up in his throat.

Howard rested his chin on Vince's head and rubbed his back. "Didn't what, little man?"

Vince hiccupped and held Howard even tighter. "I – I didn't mean t-to see. Didn't m-mean to let him s-see me."

Howard's blood ran cold, and he pulled away from Vince, holding him gently by the shoulders. "What did you see?" he asked, almost whispering.

Vince took a deep, shaky breath. "I decided to walk h-home from the club and t-took a shortcut th-through the park. This man was... he was... he had..." he retched, hands going to his stomach as he bent forward and threw up.

"Jesus!" Howard held onto him as he continued to heave.

Vince spluttered, tears pouring down his face and dripping on the floor. His throat burned and his head was spinning and he was only vaguely aware of Howard helping him up and walking him to the bathroom. Helping him to sit on the toilet seat. Helping him to wipe his mouth. Helping him out of his shirt. Cleaning up the cuts on his hand. A cold flannel went to his head and he sighed gratefully, but his embarrassment soon took over. "I'm sorry," he whimpered, lower lip wobbling as he sniffed and wiped his nose on a piece of toilet roll.

Howard placed a comforting hand on Vince's neck and smiled sadly. "Don't be. Vince – what happened?"

Vince looked at him through bleary, unfocussed eyes. "Can I have some more water?" he asked hoarsely, and Howard wasn't even really sure if Vince had heard what he'd said.

A few minutes later they were back in the living room, Vince in an almost zombie-like state and wrapped in one of Howard's cardigans, for once not caring what he looked like – he barely noticed. Howard cleaned up the carpet and then joined him on the sofa, his arm going round his shoulder, and pulling his still shaking body close. Then Vince started to talk, his voice barely audible as he stared pointedly at nothing. The sight of him sent a chill down Howard's spine.

"This man in the park – he was burying something, in that little woodland area by the pond. I should've just turned around and walked away but I – it was like I was frozen. I couldn't move, and I didn't want to look but I couldn't help it. And then he looked up and he dropped... I saw..." Vince's breathing started to quicken again and Howard grabbed his hands. "An arm. I saw an arm just flop away from... and blood and... and he saw me and I ran. I ran and I ran all the way back and I didn't mean to look and I didn't mean for him to see me!" He started sobbing again and rocked back and forth as he buried his face in his hands.

Howard grabbed him tight. He felt sick. "Vince – Vince, we have to call the police."

Vince shook his head against Howard's neck. "No, no! He'll come for me! He saw me – he looked right at me!"

"Vince, no one is coming for you."

"But -"

"No one is coming for you. You ran away – it's not like he would have followed you. Let me call the police."

Vince looked up at Howard pleadingly, his face tearstained and streaked with eyeliner. "Howard, please don't -"

"Vince, I know you're scared, but someone's been murdered and you _have _to tell the police what you saw. You can't keep it to yourself. What if he kills someone else? And that body you saw – they've got family and friends who are probably worried sick and they _need _to know."

Vince hiccupped and nodded his head. "Okay," he whispered. "But, please don't leave me alone."

"I won't, I promise."

Howard went over to the phone, not taking his eyes off of his frightened friend. Apart from ringing the police and giving Vince hugs, he wasn't sure what else to do. Vince was in shock, but he really had no idea what to say, because what Vince had seen - images like that couldn't just be erased with a cuddle, a cup of tea and a good night's sleep. He calmly told the operator what his friend had seen and was told an officer would be with them shortly. As he hung up the receiver a bang from downstairs made them both jump and Vince started panicking, especially when Howard went towards the stairs in order to go down and investigate.

"Vince, it'll just be that display board. It's been falling down all day, remember?"

Vince did remember, but he wasn't willing to take any chances and he leapt up from his position on the sofa and ran over to Howard, grabbing his arm and pulling him back into the living room.

"Please, don't go. Please, Howard. I don't want anything to happen to you!"

Howard sighed sadly at Vince's desperation and put his arms around the smaller man. "Shhh, it's all right. I'm not going anywhere."

So they sat and waited, Vince trembling with his eyes and ears trained on the stairs, terrified that someone was about to walk up them, and Howard holding him and stroking his hair.

Then the doorbell rang.


	2. Seen

**A/N: Thank you all for the lovely response I had to the first chapter. Hope you enjoy this one! I'm not really sure if I've got the police officers right, so I just took a guess at what they would say and do!**

**xxxx**

Vince put his face in his hands, shaking his head from side to side, soaking his palms with tears. Howard frowned and went over to him, placing a hand on the top of his head and stroking his hair gently. Vince leant into him from where he was sat on the sofa, turning his face into the side of Howard's leg.

"That's enough now, surely?" Howard said, looking pleadingly at the police officer sat next to Vince with a pen and notepad in her hands. She looked up at her partner, who nodded at her.

"Okay," she replied, turning back to Howard. "We'll need Vince to come down to the station at some point though, to give a formal statement."

"Again?"

"It's standard procedure I'm afraid, sir," she said, smiling sympathetically. Then her partner called her over. "Excuse me."

As she walked off, Howard took her place on the sofa and pulled Vince against him, noting he had resumed his earlier trembling.

"Mr Moon?"

Howard looked up to see the male police officer standing over him. "Yes?"

"Can I have a word?" he gestured to the other side of the room, but Vince clung to Howard and wouldn't let him go, so in the end, in a low voice, the officer said, "Obviously Vince is in shock, but as it seems to be quite severe I think it might be best to call for a doctor, even if it's just to give him something to help him sleep."

Howard bit down on his lip, looked at Vince, who didn't seem to have acknowledged what the officer had just asked and was beginning to sob dreadfully again, and nodded.

"Okay."

"Good. I'll get that sorted for you." He walked off to make a call, while the female officer knelt down in front of Vince.

"Vince, thank you. I know it's extremely difficult but you did really well. Don't worry – we'll catch him, and you'll be fine. You're safe, all right?" She placed a hand on his shoulder and then frowned as she noticed the injuries on his hand. "Did you fall over when you were running home?"

Vince shook his head and tried to talk through his tears. "D-dropped my keys outside the door and c-couldn't get them properly in the dark."

The female officer nodded. She more or less understood what he was trying to say, and she smiled softly at him, standing again as her partner came back over.

"He won't be too long," he said. "I explained the situation, but would you like us to wait with you?"

"No, no it's fine. Thank you."

The male officer smiled. "We'll see ourselves out."

But Vince allowed himself to let go of Howard so he could go with them, otherwise who would lock the door?

xxxx

It was nearly four in the morning by the time the doctor had left. Vince was curled up in bed fast asleep, the doctor having given him an injection to calm him down.

"Just a mild sedative," he'd told Howard, and then proceeded to explain to him what to do if Vince got worse, and that recovery would take time and he'd have to be patient with him.

As if Howard would be anything but. He was desperately worried about his best friend, who'd nearly had a heart attack when he'd seen the needle and had had a bit of a hissy-fit before the doctor was able to administer it, Howard telling Vince over and over that it would make him feel better, even though his behaviour was breaking his heart. Unable to sleep himself, Howard sat on the edge of Vince's bed and just watched him – every breath, every movement, his body still shaking slightly as it worked with the medication to settle everything down, regulating his pulse and evening out his breathing. Howard reached a hand out to brush Vince's hair out of his eyes, and in his sleep Vince grabbed hold of it and wouldn't let go, sighing as he pulled it into his chest. Howard smiled down at him affectionately and didn't try to pull his hand back, instead lying down next to the smaller man and holding him close.

Eventually, sleep claimed him.

xxxx

"_Howard? Howard! Howard!"_

Howard, who was in the kitchen making himself some coffee, dashed into the bedroom to find Vince sitting up in bed, the duvet being twisted about his hands as his eyes darted about frantically, looking for his friend and panicking when he couldn't see him.

"Howard!"

"Shhh, I'm here, I'm here," Howard said, sitting beside Vince and rocking him gently until he started to quieten.

"I thought you'd died," Vince finally whimpered, trying his hardest to not start crying again.

"What? Did you have a nightmare?"

Vince nodded dejectedly. "He got you and you died," he whispered, looking up at Howard with watery eyes. "I don't want you to leave me." The flood in his eyes broke then and slowly trickled down his face.

"Hey, it's all right, little man. I won't ever leave you." Howard enveloped the smaller man in a hug. "You don't have to be scared, okay?"

"What's going on?"

Howard looked up to see Naboo and Bollo standing in the doorway, Naboo with a slightly weirded out expression on his face, as if he thought he'd caught Vince and Howard doing something he really didn't want to see. Bollo had a hand over his eyes.

Vince clutched at Howard's shirt and buried his head against his neck.

"Vince saw someone in the park during the night burying a body. The police have been round..." Howard didn't want to say too much in case it upset Vince even more, but he had to tell Naboo something.

Naboo looked shocked. "Shit." He walked into the room and sat the other side of Vince. "You okay?" Stupid question, Naboo knew, but what was he supposed to say?

Vince squirmed further into Howard and the tiny shaman frowned. "Has he been like this all night?" he whispered to Howard, as if Vince wouldn't hear him.

"He slept for a bit. Doctor gave him something. But mostly, yes."

Naboo nodded. "I'll see if I've got anything he can have."

xxxx

For most of the day Vince sat on the sofa with Howard, staring straight through the TV and only engaging in conversation when he was asked a question. It was raining now, and he was watching the water on the window intently, following the drops as they hit the glass and trickled down in streams, the ends of them like tiny globes which flattened out as soon as they hit the frame at the bottom. Thunder rumbled ominously overhead which in turn did nothing to soothe Vince's nerves. All day he'd been swinging from one mood to the other, crying one minute and then staring off into space as quiet as anything the next. Howard had tried to get him to go to the police station so he could give his statement, but Vince had panicked wildly at this, sobbing and begging Howard not to make him go outside. Howard didn't push it – he couldn't. Seeing Vince like this was tearing him apart. Every time he got up to use the bathroom or get something from the bedroom, Vince would start shaking, and it would only stop when Howard was by his side again where he could see him, and he'd grab the bigger man's hand and squeeze it so tightly that Howard was sure it would break. Not that he'd complained; he didn't say a word – how could he? And Howard felt guilty too, not just because he hadn't been able to protect Vince from seeing something so disturbing and gruesome, but also because his heart, however much it was hurting for his friend, was swelling at the thought that when it really came down to it, Vince only wanted _him_. This fact had been drilled in even more when Bollo had been on the receiving end of Vince's anger earlier that afternoon;

"_Howard, we've run out of milk for tea. You run to the shop, Bollo take care of Vince."_

"_No." Vince moved so he was nearly sitting on Howard's lap, his pale face almost scowling up at Bollo as the ape stood in front of them. _

That was when Bollo had made his grave mistake.

"_Bollo can take better care of precious Vince. Howard's not good with emotions."_

Howard shivered inwardly as he remembered the fit Vince had pitched at Bollo's words, startling the ape so much that he'd stumbled backwards and nearly fallen over the coffee table, Vince ranting at him and daring him to say one more bad thing about his best friend. Bollo hadn't, and Naboo had dragged him away as Howard had tried to calm Vince down. Since then, Bollo had been sulking in Naboo's room, listening to his records and sucking on the hookah the way a baby took to a bottle of milk.

"Vince?"

Vince blinked and tore his gaze away from the rain-splattered window.

"Do you want to try and eat something?"

"I'm not hungry."

Howard took Vince's hand in both of his and rubbed it gently. "You haven't eaten all day. If you just want something small I can make you some soup?"

Vince shook his head, eyes focused on the carpet. "No, thank you."

Howard looked at him, taking in his sallow face and the dark skin around his eyes, the eyes themselves bloodshot and sore. His lips, which were once soft and pink, were now almost bloodless, and cracked from where he had been chewing on them. His hair was untamed and dull, the layers kinked and flicking out all over the place, and his small frame was dressed in the loosest clothes possible – a pair of tracksuit bottoms that Howard wasn't even aware Vince owned, and one of Howard's jumpers. Howard had never seen Vince looking so lost – in fact, he'd never even seen him looking _slightly_ lost. The closest to devastated he'd ever become was when Lance Dior had stolen his look. But even though that whole situation had obviously been real, it wasn't real like this was real. This was real in a completely _real _way. Frightening real. Life changing real. Sickeningly real in a way real shouldn't be. Things like this weren't supposed to happened, and when they did, they weren't supposed to happen in front of you or the people you loved. And yet here Howard was, because it _had _happened to someone he loved, and he had to fight the urge to be sick as he realised that Vince might never be the same again. That the sick bastard who had committed murder had ruined more lives than he probably even realised. Not that he'd even care, Howard reasoned. He felt guiltily glad that he hadn't known the deceased, because he couldn't even begin to imagine how their family must be feeling – glad because he had no idea how he would handle news like that, and guilty because he had it easy compared to the people who were grieving for the loss of someone they'd loved. And – Oh, God. What if it had been Vince? Was the person who had been killed taken there, already dead, or just dragged randomly from the path and murdered on the spot? What if Vince had walked through the park a few minutes earlier? Could it have been him? _Could _it? Howard didn't realise he was crying until he felt a hand on his face, and he opened eyes he didn't even know he had closed, gaze resting on Vince's tired face. Then he let out a strangled noise and hugged Vince to him fiercely, the desire to protect him against all odds overwhelming him.

Howard knew that if anyone ever dared to hurt Vince, they'd have to get through him first.

xxxx

Naboo wasn't sure what was making him wary of the letter in his hand. Vince got mail all the time from all sorts of people – most of them writing to profess their undying love – but something about this particular letter sent tingles down his spine. He tapped lightly on Vince and Howard's bedroom door, pushing it open when he heard Howard tiredly call out that he could come in. Howard was in Vince's bed, Vince himself still asleep and curled around his friend.

"This came for Vince," Naboo whispered, holding up the envelope.

"Thanks, just put it here," Howard said, nodding his head towards the bedside table.

Naboo shook his head. "I think we should open it."

Howard frowned. "Why? That would be an invasion of his privacy."

"It doesn't – I mean, I'm getting odd readings from it. I don't know why – it just doesn't feel right."

Howard pushed himself up, being careful not to disturb Vince as he moved. "What do you mean?"

The shaman sighed. "Please, Howard. Let's just open it, yeah?"

Getting slightly freaked out, Howard nodded, watching Naboo intently as he broke the seal and pulled out the piece of paper inside. He held his breath, then had to hold back a cry of alarm as he read the only three words the letter held, three words that made his blood run cold.

I saw you.


	3. Safe House

**A/N: Sorry for the wait, peeps. And I also don't think I got round to replying to everyone's reviews for the last chapter, so I'm sorry for that too! Thank you though, they were all lovely and put a stupid grin on my face!**

**xxxx**

The bath helped to disillusion Vince slightly, and for a while made him feel warm and safe. The bubbles swirled around him, tickling softly against his skin, soothing him. He managed to fool himself for an impressive amount of time, until the bubbles started to fade away and left him feeling chilly and exposed. Much to his shame, he found himself drawing the curtain round the bath and calling for Howard, desperate for his company after having got used to spending nearly two days practically surgically attached to him. He felt bad – Howard had been absolutely amazing – but he was still terrified that someone might take him away from him. He'd never stopped to realise before how quickly something like that could happen - to _anyone_.

"Vince?"

Vince looked up at Howard's shadow against the curtain, the water splashing slightly as he moved his hand in the water. "Yeah?"

"You okay?"

Vince realised that he'd been quiet for quite a while. "You know how people think 'it'll never happen to me'? Well, s'not true, is it?"

Howard sighed sadly. " 'Fraid not, little man. But, it doesn't happen to _everyone_ – you'll be fine. You're safe with me."

Laying back in the water Vince smiled a little, not able to see the look of anguish on Howard's face. Vince hadn't been told about the letter and Howard had ordered Naboo to take it to the police station, where the shaman had had to be fingerprinted in order to eliminate him from inquiries when forensics lifted the prints from the envelope, hoping that the killer may have been stupid enough to not wear gloves.

"I'm sorry, Howard. I know I'm being all clingy and a complete pain in the arse, it's just I can't get the image of it out of my head – of that arm, covered in _so _much blood, and _his_ face, his soulless eyes and the way he looked at me..."

"Hey, come on now," Howard soothed, moving from his perch on the toilet seat and kneeling next to the bath, snaking a hand round the curtain in order the grab Vince's, who squeezed back tightly, desperately trying to sniff back tears.

"I'm sorry -"

"Stop it. Don't you dare be sorry – you've absolutely nothing to be sorry for."

Vince sniffed and wiped the back of his hand over his face. "I'm gonna get out now."

Howard pulled his arm back and stood, handing Vince a towel round the curtain. "Just shout if you need me."

Vince didn't want to spend too long on his own, so he dried himself off quickly and threw on his dressing gown, rubbing at his hair vigourously with a towel so it stuck up in all directions, looking like a haystack until he combed it flat. He couldn't be bothered with styling it, which he knew was an odd thing for him to not want to do, but he wasn't particularly inclined to care; and that was odd too. As much as he hated to admit it, because it exposed just how fragile he was, his entire purpose at the moment was to get back to Howard. Howard. Vince wondered why it had taken something as awful as witnessing a murderer burying his victim for him to see just how much Howard cared about him. Sure, he'd always known on some level, but now he _really _knew, and now felt guilty over all the times that he'd brushed Howard's kind attention to one side. _So I should, _he thought glumly as he picked up his razor, pondering for a second before putting it back down and instead picking up the electric shaver, giving his face a quick once over without having to worry about cutting himself, which he most certainly would have done if he'd hurried with the razor, because his hands were shaking from the amount of time he was spending on his own. Howard was sitting at the kitchen table when he came out, nursing a cup of coffee and staring at the wall opposite. He looked exhausted, and the guilt twisting its way through Vince's body tightened even more. But, however hard he tried to let go of his attachment, he just couldn't do it. Vince needed Howard to look after him as much as _he_ needed to make sure Howard was okay, that he hadn't been stolen away from him in the moments where his gaze on him was temporarily broken – the moments when he blinked. And if he wasn't looking at him, he was touching him – leaning against him, holding his hand; just feeling that he was there. When Vince had to use the bathroom, Howard would have to talk to him through the door so Vince knew he was okay. The bath had been his first attempt at trying to go it alone, and he had failed.

Seeing Vince standing there, just looking at him, Howard raised a gentle smile and pushed a mug of sweet tea across the table. Vince returned the smile and sat down opposite his friend, picking up the mug gratefully and blowing across the top of it to cool the hot liquid.

"Okay?" Howard asked, feeling stupid as he did so. Of course Vince wasn't okay, but that wasn't stopping him from nodding bravely at Howard as he sipped his tea. Howard stood up and walked round the table, having a sudden, irrepressible urge to touch his friend, as much to make sure he was still there as it was to let Vince know that he wasn't being a burden. Howard leant forward and cupped one side of Vince's face, running his thumb over his cheek and pressing a light kiss to his forehead as he did so. Then he pulled back and looked at him tenderly, hand still pressed to cheek, knowing he should say something in case Vince was starting to wonder what the hell he was doing, although the smaller man was smiling at him softly. "Do you feel ready to try and eat something?"

Vince's eye-line moved from Howard to the top of the table, and then his shoulders heaved as he sighed. "I'll try."

"Thank you." Howard moved away from the table and over to the cupboards, searching for something light but filling. He removed a tin of soup and set about heating it up, feeling Vince's eyes on his back as he did so, a painful reminder as to how scared Vince still was, and he had good reason to be if that note was anything to go by. Not that Howard was planning on telling him about it – he wanted to protect Vince, not frighten him even more. Nor was he planning on telling him about the police officers that were stationed outside the front and back of the building, on high alert now someone who could possibly be the murderer knew who Vince was and where he lived. DNA had been removed from the body, which had been dug up from the park after Vince had the told the police where it was, and was going to be cross-matched with whatever they managed to find on the note. Officers had tried to move them to a safe house, but Howard had begged them to let them stay in the flat and to not say anything to Vince, afraid that his friend wouldn't be able to handle it. Little did he know that barely half an hour later, all that was going to change.

xxxx

"No! No, I'm not going out there – I'm not!"

"Vince. Vince, please calm down."

"Vince, this move is for the best, for you and Howard. I'm afraid we need the extra officers to join the manhunt. If I could spare them, I would, but we need all the help we can get on this case and so it's not practical for them to be stationed here. Howard's efforts in trying to protect you are admirable, but I'm afraid in the end I had no choice but to arrange alternative accommodation for you, and that meant filling you in on what's been going on."

"But – Howard! Tell him! I can't, this is my home. I don't want to leave, I want to stay here! Howard, please!"

Howard pulled Vince to him and tried to ease his agitation. "Vince, I'm so sorry. I didn't want it to come to this; I tried so hard to protect you from it. But we have to go. I won't have your life put in danger by staying here unguarded." He hugged Vince tightly as the smaller man began to sob in fright.

"I don't want to go outside."

"I know, sweetheart. But it's just to the car. It's right outside the door." Howard rested his chin on Vince's head as Vince clung to him like a child. "I promise I won't let anything happen to you."

The Inspector watched them for a moment before suggesting that they go and pack a few essentials.

"You'll have to keep an eye on the place anyway, won't you? In case he turns up here," Howard said, Vince's sobbing prompting him to try one last time for them to be allowed the stay in flat.

"It'll just be one unmarked car out the front. It's not enough to guarantee your safety. Now, please – we'll have to get going very soon."

Howard took Vince's hand and led him to the bedroom.

"Howard, _please_," Vince begged through his tears once Howard had closed the door, going up to him and flinging his arms around his neck, wet face pressed against Howard's shoulder. Howard rubbed his back, his other hand on the back of Vince's neck.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, as Vince shook in his arms. He eventually managed to coax Vince into packing a few things, even though the tears and the begging continued as he did so. Howard was sure his heart was seconds from breaking again, but he wouldn't give into him – _couldn't _give into him. It was a risk he most definitely was not willing to take. Getting Vince down the stairs a few minutes later was no easy task either. Vince's panic attack was in full swing and he'd stopped half way down, gripping Howard's hand and shaking violently. The fact that he wouldn't even step outside the house when surrounded by officers showed Howard just how much in shock Vince still was. Hoping what he was about to do would work, Howard put an arm around Vince's shoulders and pulled him close, bringing his hand up to gently turn Vince's face into his neck. "Close your eyes and breath deeply," he murmured into his ear. "That's it. Now, one step at a time – no, don't open your eyes; I've got you. You're safe, okay?... You're doing great, just a little further – careful of the doorstep. All right? Keep those eyes closed. You're still safe, I won't let go... We're nearly at the car now, and it's just us - it's just you and me. Okay, we're here, you can open your eyes now." Vince shook his head against Howard's shoulder, tightening his grip on him, so Howard guided him into the car, putting a hand above Vince's head to make sure he didn't bump it on the roof as he climbed in. They slid onto the back seat together and the door was closed behind them. Vince wrapped himself around Howard, still not daring to open his eyes, tensing up as he tried - and failed – to control his trembling. Fearing the police might think they were hoarding a new type of drug, Howard hadn't been to creep into Naboo's room and grab a bottle of the potion the shaman had been giving Vince to help calm him, and Naboo himself, along with Bollo, was staying with Tony Harrison and his wife. Howard wasn't sure how Naboo had done it, but he had managed to convince the Inspector over the phone that they were perfectly safe where they were, and, of course, they would be, but Naboo couldn't very well explain that he and Bollo were hiding in the home of a couple of pink heads with tentacles for legs. He needed to be with the other shaman though, in order to get their help in tracking the killer down magically.

When they arrived at their unknown location, Howard got Vince out of the car the same way he had got him into it. The safe house was small and not particularly inviting, but they had no choice but to make do. An officer was stationed in there with them, and for the rest of the day they sat on the sofa and surfed through the TV channels – well, Howard did. Vince just curled up against him and stared unhappily out of the small window, retreating further into himself again and once more refusing to eat. Howard silently cursed at the setback. The soup Vince had managed to half eat earlier in the day was nowhere near enough to keep him going, and Howard was desperately worried about how weak Vince was getting.

Vince yawned and looked up at Howard, who was staring blankly at the television screen. "Howard?"

Howard blinked and shook his head the clear the fog that had begun to gather there. "Yeah?"

"I'm tired."

Howard shifted on the sofa and sat up straight, rubbing his hands over his face. "Come on then – bed." He stood, pulling Vince up with him, arm going around his waist to hold him upright as the smaller man slumped heavily against him. "We're going to bed," Howard informed the officer, who was currently on the phone to one of his colleagues, and he looked up and nodded before asking his colleague to hold on for a second.

"There'll be a different officer here by the time you wake up – I'm being relieved at two." He smiled at Howard, who returned it briefly before ushering Vince into the bedroom.

Later, as the boys lay together, Vince sleeping fitfully whilst Howard snored lightly, the door to the bedroom slowly opened, a shadow creeping across the walls from the light thrown in from the hallway.

It stopped to watch them for a moment.

And then it moved.


	4. Trapped

**A/N: Sorry about the wait everyone! I went away and had such a good time that I've spent most of this week recovering! Because of that, I'm not sure this chapter's any good, but it had to be written to get to the next part, so there we go. I won't leave it too long before posting the next one though!**

**Again, I didn't get round to replying to all my reviews, so apologies for that, and a big thank you!**

**xxxx**

Howard had no time at all to react when a rough hand pushed a piece of cloth against his mouth and nose, the other holding him still as he tried to struggle. The dim light of the room he had seen the few seconds he'd had his eyes open disappeared as quickly as it had come, the world spinning out of focus as the smell of chloroform fought its way up his nose and into his mouth, the woozy feeling that was overtaking him pulling him under, under, under, until...

Howard opened his eyes groggily. His head was throbbing painfully, the early morning sunlight streaming in through the small gap in the curtains burning his eyes, making him wince. He tried to roll over, quickly realising with a horrible jerk back to reality that he couldn't move. That he wasn't in bed. That he was tied to a chair which was tipping as he tried to turn, and that the last thing he remembered was having a nasty smelling rag shoved into his face. Howard felt sick, and then he panicked when he realised that Vince wasn't with him. He shouted out his name but it came out muffled, held back by the gag tied around his mouth. Then a figure came into view, and Howard could have cried with relief as he saw a man in uniform come to a stop in front of him. He looked up at him pleadingly, wrists sore and aching where they were tied with rope round the back of the chair.

The officer frowned, and Howard stared at him in confusion, eyes widening when a dangerously insane, toothy grin spread across the policeman's face. Howard struggled against his restraints as the officer walked towards him and knelt down in front of him, his grin turning into something much more sinister.

"Hello, Howard Moon."

Howard's muffled voice screeched out round his gag, and the officer laughed cruelly, a hand coming up to pull the gag from Howard's mouth, but before he did, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a knife, holding it to Howard's throat.

"I'm going to remove your gag, and if you start shouting your mouth off, I'll slit your throat. Comprende?"

Howard nodded, his whole body shaking with fright and anger. The dirty material was pulled away from him and he coughed harshly. "Where's Vince?" he croaked.

"The little man-lady? He's asleep, tossing and turning with his nightmares."

Howard blinked to clear his vision, his brain feeling like it was about to escape from the inside of his head. "Why are you doing this?"

"Well," the officer said, turning the knife in his hand, the weak stream of sunlight glinting off the steel. "He was a threat."

Howard blinked in confusion. "What?"

"When he saw me in the park that night, I knew I couldn't just let him get away."

"That was... that was _you_? But - but you're a police officer!"

"Exactly – that's what made it so easy. No one suspects a thing. I just listened out for when the call came in that someone had witnessed a killer in the park, and I instantly had access to who Vince Noir was and where he lived. I sent the note so you'd be moved here, and here we are. Like I said - easy. And now I can get rid of you both."

Howard's head was spinning at a hundred miles an hour. This policeman was the murderer? A man of the law, a ruthless killer? Howard swallowed heavily, teeth biting down on his lip in an effort to control his trembling, a trickle of blood appearing when he bit too hard and split the skin. "If you've hurt Vince, I swear to God -"

"What? You'll kill me?" the officer laughed cruelly and bent down in front of Howard so they were almost nose to nose, the laughter cutting off abruptly. "Like I told you – he's asleep. And if you don't keep your voice down and you wake him up, I'll slice his pretty face off – and I have something far better planned, so don't ruin it."

"He's done nothing wrong," Howard whispered, his voice shaking with emotion. "Please, let him go. Do what you want with me, but let him go."

"I don't think so, Howard Moon."

"Why do you keep doing that?"

The officer stood up straight and walked to the other side of the room, taking something out of a bag. "Doing what?"

"Saying our full names." But Howard went ignored as the officer continued to fiddle with whatever he had out on the table, which Howard could see was some sort of canister. The lid was pulled off of it and the smell of petrol floated around the room. Howard knew in an instant what it was for. "You're insane. You won't get away with this!"

"Won't I?" There was that creepy smile again, which faded as quickly as it had appeared, a sinister – no, worse – a look of pure evil replacing it; so psychotic and unhinged that Howard wouldn't have been at all surprised if the officer viciously stabbed him to death right there and then. He opened his mouth to talk, but was cut off when a hand was roughly pressed to him. Howard struggled against it, even trying to bite at it as his gag was retied. "Best not drag this out too long, eh?" The officer walked over to the canister, and while his back was turned Howard pulled frantically at his restraints, twisting his hands and trying to grab at the rope that bound them. The policeman walked over to the bedroom door with the can, petrol sloshing out of the top. Howard watched horrified as he tipped it in a line along the bottom of the door, then he pushed the door open and stepped inside, Howard yelling around his gag and pulling even more desperately at the ropes that were keeping him from saving his best friend's life. The officer stepped back out of the room seconds later, noticing Howard's look of extreme panic, and he cocked his head to one side, studying him with a malicious smile that chilled Howard's bones and had him mumbling frantically and incoherently against gag.

"Oh, don't worry about your little friend. I was just checking on him. Pretty, isn't he? His skin's as smooth as it looks," the officer said, an odd, twisted humour in his voice. Howard baulked, repulsed and angered at the fact that this mad-man had touched Vince. Then he protested even louder as he was dragged over on his chair to face the bedroom door, tears pricking at his eyes as he saw Vince asleep on the bed, completely oblivious to the drama unfolding around him; innocent, thinking he was safe – thinking Howard was watching out for him. Wet streaks trailed down Howard's face as he realised that while he was indeed _watching _him, he just wasn't keeping him safe. He had failed him.

"Don't worry, Howard Moon," the killer said in a sing-song voice, standing on a chair to reach the smoke alarm on the ceiling, removing the battery and throwing it into a corner of the room. "Vince Noir won't feel a thing. You can just sit here and watch him drift away – watch as the smoke fills his lungs and strangles him from the inside out. That is, of course, if it doesn't consume you first. And he _might_ wake up, but I don't see that he'll be able to do much. Let's see shall we? Burn, baby, burn." He climbed off the chair and produced a box of matches from his pocket, shaking them in Howard's face. "You know, the best thing about this is; no one will know it was me. You see, I killed the officer who was here earlier," he started, walking over to a cupboard near the window. He pulled the door open and a bloody body fell out, the dead policeman's face twisted into a grotesque mask of pain. Howard retched, coughing against the cloth in his mouth and desperately trying not to throw up. The officer just laughed and continued with his explanation of how he was going to get away with his horrific crime. "I'm going to light this match, leave, arrive back with the emergency services and pretend I was never here and that he," he pointed to the dead officer, "was here hours after he should have been as I got held up. But you know, if your friend had decided not to walk through the park that night, this could have all been avoided. Even if he'd just walked on without stopping to look, then right now he'd be safe in his own bed. I could have buried my cheating wife and life would have gone on as normal. But he saw me. Well, it's human instinct to stop and look, isn't it? Shame."

The smell of petrol was beginning to make Howard dizzy, and as he watched the deranged man in front of him strike the match, he saw his life flash before him - not his whole life, just the bits with him and Vince – the zoo, moving to Dalston, working in the shop, the bickering, the teasing, the playful banter and those rare, tender moments which made sticking with his friend worthwhile, which made Howard realise that Vince's over-the-top behaviour and flamboyant character were only really skin deep – a show for the rest of the world, and only Howard ever got to get a glimpse at the real person underneath, however brief it was. He knew that deep down Vince had always truly cared for him, but Howard didn't need something as awfully terrible as this to bring it out. It wasn't fair and it wasn't right. _A failure indeed_, he thought, not being able to protect Vince when he needed him most. But as the murdering officer's face lit up in the orange glow of the flame, a shadow crossing it as the match fell to the floor, hitting the line of petrol in the doorway between him and Vince, he knew that there was no way on God's earth that he was going to let Vince die without a fight. The officer fled the room as the petrol ignited in a spray of fierce, hot flames, locking the door behind him. Howard, suddenly realising that he was tied to a chair which was made of wood, shuffled himself over to the wall, nearly tipping over as he tried to hold back his panic. Again and again he hit himself against it, tears pouring down his face in frustration as he fought to free himself. Eventually, after what seemed like hours but really only could have been thirty-odd seconds, the chair splintered and collapsed under Howard's weight. Using the wall to push himself upright, he jumped across to the doorway as best he could with his ankles tied together, wincing as the heat burnt his skin, sweat pouring down his face as the fire ate up the petrol and started to melt the laminate flooring, the flames crawling along the floor as they hit the rug and licked at the bottom of the curtains. They went up with a roar, and as Howard tried not to lose his balance, a chilling scream pierced right through him. As he looked through the flames into the bedroom, his heart sank as he saw Vince kneeling upright on the bed, his eyes wide and terrified. Their gazes locked, until Howard wobbled and fell to the floor. Vince cried out for him, and the only thing Howard could think about as he fought uselessly against the ropes was that he wished with everything he had that Vince hadn't woken up - that if he wasn't able to save him, then at least he would have died quietly and painlessly in his sleep. The thought of Vince burning to death whilst awake was too much to bear, and he sobbed against his gag, his fright for his own life forgotten as he desperately tried to get up off the hot floor. He could hear Vince repeatedly screaming his name and as he eventually managed to get onto his knees, he saw that the entire door-frame was now engulfed, black smoke billowing from the wood and working it's way into his body. Vince was sobbing now, and Howard wanted more than anything to shout to him to smash the bedroom window, but he couldn't, and Vince seemed far too shocked and scared to think of it for himself.

All the same, as Howard tried to force the rope over his hands, he pleaded to any God listening that if he couldn't free himself in time, Vince realised about the window before it was too late.


	5. Rescue

**A/N: Ta da! Nice, quick update for you – didn't want to leave you hanging too long! Plus, I told Hattie that if she updated 'Bliss' again before she went away tomorrow, I'd work my backside off to get this one up tonight! So, that being the case, this chapter is dedicated to her. Also, Julia too, simply because she told me I was a legend!**

**I've been a bit nicer to you this time and not left this chapter on a cliffhanger. There will probably only be a couple more, as this was never intended to be a very long story.**

**Enjoy!**

**xxxx**

An idea popped into Howard's smoke filled mind. It was stupid, dangerous and could end horrifically, but it was the only way he could think of freeing himself. He didn't want to burn to death, and he certainly didn't want Vince to lose his life, because if Howard survived and Vince didn't, he didn't think he'd be able to carry on living. Vince was still sobbing in fright, now curled up into a ball in the middle of the bed, the flames edging ever closer. The heat was unbearable, and Howard had to fight not to pass out as he shakily moved towards the flames. He could hear Vince coughing violently and, fearing he was running out of time, Howard gathered himself as best he could and thrust his wrists at an angle against the flames. The rope caught alight, burning through, and Howard grunted in pain, trying his hardest not to scream and scare Vince even more as the fire lapped at his skin, making it blister and throb. The rope gave way and fell to the ground and Howard yanked his hands back, tears falling from his eyes as he lifted them to his face, every movement making the burning worse as he pulled the gag from his mouth, teeth gritted as he yelled out to Vince above the roar.

"Vince! Hold on, I'm coming!"

Groaning in agony, he untied his ankles and stumbled towards to doorway to the bedroom. The flames jumped out at him and he tripped backwards, his arm coming up to shield his face as he looked at Vince through the smoke.

"Vince!"

Vince lifted his head, but as he did, at that very moment, a huge explosion tore through the small house, blowing out the windows and sending a fireball and shards of glass out into the street. Both Howard and Vince screamed and stumbled at the same time, and Howard saw, to his horror, that the only doorway standing between him and Vince was now fully engulfed with angry orange and red.

"Howard!" Vince cried, choking on the smoke and coughing harshly. "I'm trapped!"

In the distance, above the noise, Howard could just make out the sound of horrified neighbours gathered in the street. He felt a trickle of something warm and sticky run down the side of his face and he touched his fingers tenderly to the side of his head, wincing as they brushed against a gash near his temple, pulling them away to reveal a dark stain of blood. Then he remembered something. "Vince! The window!"

Vince whipped round and stumbled over to it. He tried to force it open, but he was weakening rapidly and didn't have the strength to open it. Then he spied the lock and realised that it wouldn't have opened anyway. Looking to his left, he saw the key resting on a cabinet and he grabbed for it, but in his haste he spun round too fast and tripped over his feet and fell to the floor, coughing and crying, collapsing every time he tried to move.

On the other side of the flames Howard could barely see the window in the bedroom, but he'd caught a glimpse of Vince trying to open it and then moving away. He hadn't seen him fall. "Smash the glass, Vince!" A few agonising seconds passed and a blind panic ripped through Howard's body, turning his stomach and pulling his chest tight. Vince wasn't doing anything - nothing at all. Which could only mean... "Vince! Vince! Talk to me!" Howard looked around him desperately. The fire had spread round the living room quickly and was blocking every exit apart from the front door, which the killer had somehow locked in such a way that it could no longer be opened from the inside. He couldn't even get into the kitchen or bathroom to fetch some water, not that it would do any good – the fire was now far too fierce and a jug of water wasn't going to placate it one bit. Scared and frustrated he kicked at the coffee table, yelling when pain shot through his foot. He wanted nothing more than to burst into tears again and just give himself over the inevitable, too tired and weak to try and fight anymore, the smoke clogging up his lungs and choking him. But however much he wanted to, there was still that part of him that wouldn't let him give up, wouldn't let Vince - wouldn't let his beauty and his charm - be burnt away and replaced by a crisp, smouldering shell. He would not let everything he was become a horrific waste all because some madman had sought to end Vince's life just so he could avoid jail. He couldn't just stand there and wait for help – there was no time - and with that he launched himself without another thought at the flaming doorway, ready to fly through the fire and rescue his friend. Despite his good intentions though, he hadn't counted on a pair of hands pulling him backward just before he dived in. Howard struggled and twisted round to see a fireman dragging him out of the house, through the gap where the front door had been that Howard, through his blind desire to get to Vince, hadn't even heard being broken down.

"No, no! Vince! Let me go!"

The fireman held onto Howard tightly and then deposited him into the capable hands of the ambulance crew before running back inside the burning building. Howard spun out of the paramedic's grasp and ran back towards the house – however, he only got as far as the gate before he was pulled back, an oxygen mask being attached over his face as he fought weakly to get to Vince, tears spilling down his face as he coughed and tried to breathe in the pure oxygen at the same time. Tired and woozy, he had no choice but to let himself be led into the ambulance, where he was checked over, the paramedic wincing at the burns on Howard's hands and wrists. As he sat at the back of the vehicle while people fussed around him, his eyes never strayed from the burning house, the searing heat, black smoke and deadly flames pouring out of the windows. It seemed like hours before Vince was brought out, and he was immediately placed on a stretcher, unconscious and covered in soot. He was so still that Howard was sure he hadn't made it. He called out to him and cried even harder, but the paramedics shut the doors and they set off in separate ambulances to the hospital.

xxxx

Howard tried his best not to scream every swear word under the sun. The wound next to his temple had been cleaned and stitched up, and now his hands were being treated and wrapped, the stinging making his eyes water, and he hissed through gritted teeth, the nurse looking at him apologetically as she finished up.

"When can I see Vince?"

The nurse smiled sympathetically. "I'm afraid I don't know, Mr Moon. Tell you what, I'm nearly done, so in a minute I'll go and find out for you, okay?"

Howard nodded and looked down at his hands, which were being wrapped in what looked suspiciously like cling-film before being bandaged.

"There you go. How are those painkillers working for you?"

"Fine. Please, I need to know how Vince is."

Upon hearing the pleading in Howard's voice, the nurse quickly excused herself and scurried off to see what she could find out.

xxxx

Howard sat by Vince's bed, unable to take his eyes off of his sick friend. Vince's face was pale, although most of his skin was still covered in soot. He was very lucky to have not been burned, but he'd suffered severe smoke inhalation – so severe, that Howard had nervously been informed by a junior doctor that at one point Vince had actually died, albeit briefly, but due to the efforts of the resuscitation team they'd managed to save him just in time. Howard had very nearly passed out at that revelation. He couldn't believe that while he was being treated for his own injuries, unbeknownst to him, the one person who meant more to him than anything else in the entire world had actually died. It was too much to take in, and he'd sobbed openly. His brain having been starved of oxygen for several minutes, tests were being run to determine whether Vince had suffered any brain damage. Of course, nothing would be certain until Vince woke up. Howard grasped Vince's hand as best he could and held it against his face, his cheeks wet and flushed and lower lip trembling as he stared down at him, scared by how unnatural Vince looked. He was so still and quiet – even when he was sleeping, Vince was usually shifting about and mumbling as he dreamt.

"I'm sorry," Howard whispered, placing a soft kiss to Vince's palm. "I'm sorry I didn't do more for you. But you have to wake up, understand? You have to, because you've got so much to live for and... and I can't survive without you. I can't imagine..." He took a deep, shaky breath. "Don't let him win, Vince. You're stronger than that. Fight it. Please, fight it."

xxxx

Vince opened his eyes groggily, his surroundings blurred, the noises around him echoing as though he were listening to them underwater. He blinked, the room slowly coming into focus as his eyes adjusted. Suddenly he panicked, his hands flying to the mask on his face as he struggled to sit up, coughing and spluttering, pushing away at whoever is was who was trying to grab him and hold him still. A voice rang out through his groggy mind, instantly recognisable, and Vince stopped struggling and stared up at the man in front of him.

"Howard?"

Howard put his arms around his friend and hugged him tight in relief, and then instantly pulled away as Vince coughed even harder and a nurse ran in, running over to him and trying to calm him. A glass of water was held to Vince's lips, and he sipped at it eagerly, some it spilling down his chin as he gulped it down.

"Easy now," the nurse said, taking the glass away and drying him off.

"Howard."

"I'm here, I'm here," Howard soothed, gently stroking Vince's hair back out of his now clean face. Howard had finally demanded a bowl of water and a sponge from one of the nurses, deciding that as they were snowed under he'd see to Vince himself. The least he could do was clean his friend up, although it had been difficult with his bandaged hands. "How you feeling, little man?"

Vince breathed deeply and closed his eyes for a second. "Sick. What happened?"

Howard swallowed. "There was a fire. Do you remember?"

Vince nodded, his eyes watering. "We got out."

"Yeah, course we did," Howard smiled, softly.

"I thought you'd died," Vince sniffed, tears gently rolling down his ashen face.

Howard reached forward and cupped the smaller man's face with one hand, rubbing his partially uncovered thumb across his cheek to wipe away the tears. "Hey now, none of that," he said, his heart heavy with the fact that it had actually been Vince who, for the briefest of moments, had lost his life. That thought nearly caused Howard to start sobbing again, but he had to be strong, so he bit his tongue and held back. He moved so the nurse could get to Vince and check him out, and then she left to get the doctor once she was happy that Vince was in no immediate danger. Luckily, on the outside, there didn't seem to be a hint of any brain damage, but that would be for the doctor to assess before anyone could be a hundred percent sure.

Vince looked down at Howard's hands, only just noticing that they were bandaged. "You got burnt?"

Howard nodded. "Yeah – but don't worry. They should heal fine. As second degree burns go, they weren't too bad, so they shouldn't scar."

At that, Vince started to sob, and Howard looked mortified at what he'd just said to the fragile creature next to him.

"Vince, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to -"

"Don't be sorry," Vince cut him off, his shoulders heaving. "You got hurt and it's all my fault."

Howard put his arms around Vince and pulled him into a hug. "Don't you dare say that. It was in no way your fault, d'ya hear? You are in no way responsible for that madman's actions."

"Did you see him?"

That caught Howard off guard. "What?"

"Did you see who it was?"

Oh. For all he wanted to protect Vince, Howard knew he couldn't lie to him. "Yeah, and I'm so thankful that you were asleep through it."

Vince hiccupped and pulled back a little to look at Howard's face. "Did he do anything to you?"

Howard nodded, not wanting to tell him, but not wanting to keep anything form him. "He came into our room and knocked me out with chloroform. When I came round I was tied to a chair in the living room. Then he set it alight and walked away. Thing is, he was so sure that we would die. And now I know who he is and so do the police. They'll get him Vince, I promise."

Vince stared at Howard in shock. "He knocked you out and tied you up?"

"Yes. And I tried to get to you, Vince, I really did. I'm so sorry."

"No, don't be. I saw you and I heard you shouting at me. I tired to do what you said, but the window was locked and I fell over when I went to grab the key from the cabinet. I tried to get up, I really did, but it was so hot and I couldn't breathe and -"

"All right, it's okay." Howard handed Vince his water as he began to cough again.

"Thanks," Vince croaked. "My throat's killing me."

The doctor came in then, smiling at Vince as he walked over to him, his eyes crinkling at the corners, the blue of them standing out against his white hair. "Well, young man, you're looking a lot better I must say. Let's get you checked out, shall we?" He turned to Howard. "Mr Moon, the police are outside and they'd like to speak with you again."

Vince looked up at Howard, his face etched with worry. "Don't go," he begged, and Howard's heart almost broke. Again. He dropped a kiss to Vince's forehead. "I'll be right back, I promise. I won't be far away, just outside those doors," he said, gesturing towards them.

Vince nodded in defeat, attempting to give Howard a brave smile as the bigger man moved away and stepped out into the corridor. The doctor smiled at him again comfortingly.

"You gave us quite a fright, you know. You're a tough one, I'll give you that."

Vince resisted the urge to ask what he meant as the doctor shone a light in his eyes. He wasn't sure he wanted to know.


	6. Thank You

**A/N: Penultimate chapter! I don't have much to say about it, just that I hope you enjoy it! Once again I have been rubbish with replying to reviews, so, as always, thank you for all your support!**

**xxxx**

Howard was just about to go back into Vince's room when the doctor came up on his left and put a hand on his arm, looking at him solemnly. For one terrifying moment Howard thought he was about to be told the worst, and his stomach instantly tightened, tears stinging the backs of his eyes.

"Don't look so worried, Mr Moon. Vince is fine. It's just... I told him something that I didn't realise you hadn't discussed with him. He knows about his clinical death. I'm sorry, I should have checked with you first."

Howard frowned and swallowed heavily. "Is he okay?"

"I think he just needs his friend."

Howard nodded, noting the doctor's apologetic smile, and opened the door. Vince didn't look at him as he entered – he was sitting with his knees pulled up under his chin, staring down at the bed. Howard's heart went out to him.

Hey. How you doin', little man?" He sat down in the chair bedside the bed as Vince slowly turned his head to look at him.

"I died."

Howard looked back at him with sad eyes and took hold of his hand. "Vince, you're still here – that's what matters."

Vince shook his head, biting down on his lip to stop himself from crying. "But I wasn't – for a few minutes I was dead and..." Hot tears toppled over the rims of his eyes and his breath caught in his throat. Howard moved to sit next to him on the bed, his arms going around him. Vince flung himself into Howard and sobbed.

"Shhh, it's all right. You're okay, Vince. You're safe now."

"But I was... I was..."

Howard hugged him tighter, whispering soothing words into Vince's ear until he started to calm. Vince sniffed and rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand, then gratefully took the tissue Howard held out to him and wiped his nose.

"Vince, did the doctor explain to you what clinical death was? What it meant?"

Vince nodded, hiccuping as tried to even out his breathing. His throat was still sore from the smoke and his lungs ached.

Howard reached a hand up to Vince's face and pushed a strand of hair away from his eyes. "You were brought back – it wasn't your time. When I was told, I couldn't believe it. But now all that matters is that you're alive, and you _have _to concentrate on that, otherwise it'll do your head in."

Vince smiled slightly. "Yeah – you're right."

Howard gave him a look of mock surprise. "I'm sorry. I'm _what_?"

Vince laughed and gave him a small shove. "Shut up." He picked at a thread on his hospital gown and sighed. "When can I go home?"

"Not yet. You need to be kept in for observation for a couple of days."

"Observation? Makes me sound like a science experiment."

Howard shuffled back against the headboard and pulled Vince into him, stroking his hair as they sat in a companionable silence. Vince turned his head so that his face was pressed against Howard's neck. He breathed in his comforting scent, closing his eyes as he snuggled further into him, arm sliding across his stomach.

"Comfy?" Howard asked, amusement in his voice. But Vince didn't answer, and looking down, Howard saw that he'd fallen asleep.

xxxx

"Mr Moon?"

It was the police.

Howard slowly cracked an eye open and peered blearily at the up at the Inspector. Vince was still curled up against him and he shifted slightly and pushed himself upright, trying his best not to disturb him.

"I'm sorry, Mr Moon, but we thought you should know – we've found him. He's dead. When he ran from the house he fled towards the main road and ended up running blindly in front of a lorry. He was pronounced dead on arrival at hospital."

If Howard didn't believe in karma before, he sure did now. And not only that, he also didn't know what to say, so he just nodded seriously and listened intently as the Inspector continued to explain the situation. When he left, Vince stirred and sleepily sat up.

"He's dead?"

Howard frowned. "You heard all that? I thought you were asleep."

"I was for a bit. And then when I woke up I didn't want to say anything in case he wanted to ask me loads more questions. He's really dead? It's really over?"

"Yeah, little man. It's over. How do you feel?"

Vince shrugged. "I dunno. Is it wrong to be glad that he's dead, to think that he got what he deserved?"

Howard shook his head. "No, I don't think so. I mean, I wouldn't usually wish death on anyone, but he was deranged and he hurt a lot of people, not to mention killing his poor wife and that policeman."

"What?"

Howard inwardly cursed himself. Shifting on the bed, he turned to face Vince fully, scratching at his stubble as he did so, as if it would somehow prepare him for telling Vince just how far this man had gone. "The body you saw that night – it was his wife. He'd caught her cheating on him and he killed her. And the officer who had been with us at the house – he killed him too. He was a policeman, too, you see. That's how he was able to find out about us."

Vince sat quietly as he took all this information in. He stared down at his hands, then at the door, rubbing his palms over his knees and breathing in deeply.

"Vince?"

"I don't know what to say."

Howard put an arm across his shoulders. "It's okay. I know it's a lot to take in. It's a big shock."

Vince pushed away, suddenly angry. A flush of colour spread across his cheeks, which would have made a welcome change to his pale face if it wasn't for what was causing it. "A lot to take in? A big shock? Howard, you went through all of that alone! I slept while you were tied up and threatened, while you watched that psychopath set fire to the house! I can't even -"

"Vince!" Howard grabbed him by the shoulders and looked him in the eyes. "Listen to me. It's over. _None_ of this is your fault. You have nothing to be sorry for and nothing to feel guilty about. This stops, right now, because I will _not _have you beating yourself up over something you had absolutely no control over. The man was a murderer, and I thank God every second that you _were _asleep because I can't bear the thought of what he would have done to you if you'd woken up. If anything, I should have done more for _you._ When you were trapped in the bedroom, passed out on the floor and I didn't know if you were dead or alive, I thought my whole world was about to end, and all that mattered was getting to you. I had to do _something_, because there was no way, dead or alive, that I was going to let you burn, but then I was pulled out by a fireman and even though he saved my life all I could think about was how I'd failed you, and when they brought you out on that stretcher, and I didn't know... I didn't..." his voice cracked and he fought desperately to stay in control. "I didn't know if you were all right, and then we got taken to hospital separately and they wouldn't let me see you until they'd fixed me up, and during that time I had absolutely_ no _idea that they'd nearly lost you, that_ I'd _nearly lost you. You were fighting for your life and I didn't even know. You could have died and I wouldn't have ever had the chance to tell you... tell you..." and he burst into tears, instantly setting off Vince, who flung his arms around him and clung to him for dear life.

"I'm sorry!"

"No -"

"I know, I know – I just..." Vince sobbed. He took Howard's face in his hands. "Thank you."

"W-what for?"

"For caring about me. For risking your life for me. For -" Vince pressed his lips to Howard's in a desperate kiss, running his fingers over Howard's face and wiping away his tears. It was messy and wanting, and they sobbed against each other's mouths, Howard's hands twisting through Vince's hair.

"I thought I'd lost you," Howard sobbed against him, breath catching in his throat as he gasped through his tears.

"Never," Vince said, hiccuping as he pulled away to rest his head against that of the man who he now knew meant more to him than anything else in the entire world.

They both wiped at each other faces with their thumbs, wobbly smiles playing on their mouths as they calmed down, tears drying up until they were left just staring at each other intensely. As if someone had flicked a switch, Howard suddenly didn't know what to do with himself, and Vince tried not to laugh at how adorably awkward he looked. Instead he cuddled into him, feeling Howard relax almost immediately.

"Thank you. Again."

Howard pressed a kiss to Vince's head.

"I'd do it again."

Vince smiled up at him meaningfully. "I know."


	7. Moving Forward

**A/N: Final chapter! Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed – your support has been very much appreciated! Sorry this one is short, but it's really just a tie-up. It's full of fluff though, so hopefully that will make up for it. Enjoy! xx**

**xxxx**

"Howard?"

Vince's whisper was so soft that Howard only just heard him. It was dark. So dark, that even the silver light of the moon slipping into the room through the small gap in the curtains only highlighted Vince's features just enough to let Howard know he was actually still there – the fact that he could feel him in his arms completely irrelevant. That was when Howard realised that Vince was probably just as scared of ruining the delicate silence as he was. He didn't say anything in return, just shifted onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow, the change in position allowing the moonlight to bounce right off of Vince's eyes. A small, adoring smile played over Howard's mouth as they shone like the stars, and he found himself slowly leaning forwards, Vince arching up slightly to meet him as Howard caught the smaller man's lips with his own, gently brushing his mouth against him and pulling the softest of noises from his throat. Howard shivered as Vince's tongue ran across his bottom lip and gently pushed its way into his mouth, soft and hot and slick. He wanted to moan loudly, to come completely undone, but he was so terrified of breaking this fragile moment, of shattering the stillness, that he held back, his willpower working overtime.

After spending two days in hospital, Vince had been discharged into Howard's care, and while he was still apprehensive and a bit skittish, suspicious of every person who looked like they were up to no good, he'd been handling the return home rather well; he'd been especially pleased to see his own bed, but as night had fallen, he'd begged Howard to stay with him, trembling at the thought of being left alone. Howard had hugged him then, telling him that of course he wasn't going to leave him. It was a hug that had lasted a good while, giving them a closeness they hadn't shared since _that _kiss at the hospital. Shortly after it had happen Vince had fallen asleep, and when he'd woken up... Well, there was no denying it. Something had definitely changed. Shy smiles passed between them, hands lingered on arms longer than was normal for two men who were supposedly just friends, and the longer this had gone on for, the more Howard had wanted to just push all this silliness aside and take Vince in his arms. But he'd made a deal with himself – not whilst he was still in hospital. And since they'd got home, despite the anxiousness of being there, the tension between them had grown so much that Howard had been sure that he'd seen sparks every time Vince brushed against him. Naboo and Bollo, upon their return home, had noticed it too – Howard could tell just by the way they'd looked at him. Surprisingly though, rather than make any kind of sarcastic comment, Naboo had simply smiled knowingly and disappeared into his room with Bollo to give him and Vince some space.

Howard pulled away for air, the most beautiful sigh escaping Vince's mouth as he did so. He smiled, and rubbed his nose against Vince's, making him grin soppily. Then they made eye contact, and the grin melted into something serious and nervous.

"Howard?"

"Yeah, little man?" Howard whispered back, gently pushing Vince's hair out of his eyes with a bandaged hand.

"What were you going to tell me?"

Howard crinkled his brow in confusion as he thought, but nothing came to him. "When?" He couldn't tell for sure, but he could swear Vince was blushing.

"In the hospital, before we... you said that if I'd... that you'd never have got to tell me... what?"

Oh.

Howard's elbow was beginning to go numb, and he adjusted to make himself a bit more comfortable, shifting about nervously until he settled on a sitting position, being careful of his still sore hands as he pulled Vince up with him. He ran the exposed parts of his fingers down Vince's face, tenderly trailing them over his red lips and across his chin. Vince's eyes shone with expectation and something Howard couldn't quite define, and he moved his fingers back up to his cheek and let them rest there. He had to tell him. When Vince was looking at him like that, so full of trust and so adorably innocent, Howard found that he couldn't deny him anything, no matter what the consequences.

"That I would never have got to tell you... tell you..." Howard took a deep breath and briefly closed his eyes. When he opened them they locked directly onto Vince's, which now contained a fire he'd never seen before, and it was all he needed. "I love you."

Vince smiled so brilliantly then that Howard finally knew what he'd seen in Vince's eyes before he'd told him.

"I love you, too."

Yes, that was it.

Vince moved his arms around Howard's neck and kissed him again, slow and deep and sensual. Howard's body tingled, his skin buzzing as Vince slid his hands under his t-shirt and ran them over his back. Annoyed at the bandages restricting him, Howard settled for running his fingertips up and down Vince's arms.

"Howard?" Vince mumbled against him.

"Hmm?"

"You're my hero."

Howard was so touched he could have cried.

xxxx

Vince smiled brightly at Howard as he leant against the kitchen counter top, watching the bigger man make coffee. His eyes followed the gentle curve of his face, grazing over the sprinkling of stubble on his cheeks and the inviting wetness of his lower lip from where he had been subconsciously worrying it with his teeth as he concentrated on pouring the boiling water in the mugs without burning himself further. Vince had wanted to make the coffee for him, but Howard had been stubbornly determined that he would be able to manage.

"Ha!"

The Howard promptly slopped half of his mug onto the floor, jumping back with a yelp. Vince laughed softly and took it from his weakened grasp. "Careful there, cowboy."

Howard sulked and shuffled out of the way so Vince could bend down with the kitchen roll and mop up the floor. He then re-poured Howard's drink for him and ushered him over to the sofa, placing their mugs on the coffee table.

"I had it, you know."

Vince smiled at him lovingly. "Yeah, I know." Determined to pull a smile from Howard's pouting face, Vince kissed him.

It worked instantly.

"Wicked boy."

Vince whole face sparkled. "yep."

"Vince?"

"Yeah?"

"From now on everything's going to be great. No more hell, just you and me. I promise."

Vince lay his head on Howard's shoulder and snuggled into him, pushing him into the back of the sofa. "I know."

"Vince?"

"Yeah?" He felt Howard grin against the top of his head.

"Your hair needs straightening."

Vince laughed.


End file.
